S. K. Marley

Author: S. K.

  • Long time no see!

    Long time no see!

    Hi folks. It’s been a while. I hope the year has treated you well.

    It’s all been kicking off over here: the new Masters degree in Mesolithic Archaeology began in September; the Queer Natures and Our Transcapes project has started, and I’ve been diagnosed with a cheeky new chronic illness. It’s been a lot to balance alongside part time work, but so wonderful to find purpose among my passions while learning how to properly rest. There’s probably a whole separate blog post on that – but it’s not for now!

    We’ve had some exciting meetings already for Queer Natures. Also working with Dr Ina Linge are two more artists-in-residences; we’re finding ways to collaborate that are queer in of themselves by reframing relationships between institutions and freelance artists, enjoying somatic exercises as part of meetings… it’s been fantastic so far, and I hope to hit the bog with some lovely trans folks in May 2025.

    Expect more updates on the Queer Natures collaboration in the new year (did someone say a commissioned replica of a Roos Carr god dolly?!) and on the Masters, which is feeding my soul (gender nonconforming chimps, anyone?!). I’m also interested in seeing how chronic illness and the world of freelance creativity might work with one another – it would be wonderful to contribute more to community projects once the degree is completed. Let’s see what the path ahead brings.

    In the meantime, I wish you the loveliest festive season – and lots of well-earned rest!

    Onto the next.

    SK x

  • Creativity and community: Therapeutic Landscapes

    Creativity and community: Therapeutic Landscapes

    This post is a bit late coming, but blimey: what an absolute joy the University of Worcester’s Therapeutic Landscapes symposium (9 & 10 March 2024) was.

    120 delegates – artists, myth makers, storytellers, facilitators, researchers, academics, illustrators, sculptors, herbalists, foragers, writers, and project makers – gathered to explore how our landscapes are potential gateways for healing – healing ourselves, each other and the planet.

    Sadly, I didn’t get to watch every talk or attend every workshop – multiple stages and rooms were hosting speakers simultaneously – but those I did get to engage with challenged my assumptions, taught me something new, and changed my perspectives. Feedback from folks who attended my talk about Our Transcapes was likewise positive, I was thrilled to find.

    The need for a queer ancestry

    Ambiguously sexed ‘god dollies’ – East Yorkshire, Iron Age Britain
    A queer person in nature

    While preparing to give my talk, it became very clear that there’s a real need for finding a queer lineage. Our national history and other stories omit minority groups. The responses from queer and neurodivergent audience members really reinforced, for me, the healing power of this story I’m telling in this project: that people who live outside of the binary categories we define ourselves by – and restrict ourselves within, at times – have been around for a very long time.

    That we belong here.

    It makes me even more excited to get Our Transcapes live and out there in the world – especially as anti-trans hate crimes rise in the UK and the quality of mental health in young trans adults falls[1]. Thankfully, we’ve heard that Dr Linge’s Queer Natures project has gotten through to the second stage of our funding application, so fingers crossed the next time we write something about Our Transcapes, it’s to launch it!

    A massive thanks to the Creative Health Research Group at Worcester University for having me.

    SK giving their first talk at a symposium. Phew!
    A symposium delegate’s Instagram story

    [1] Research on increase in anti-trans hate crimes.

  • Albion Awakes – sneak peek!

    Albion Awakes – sneak peek!

    A scene from Albion Awakes.

    Leigh Woodward, a nonbinary teenager, has fainted at school. Grandad, their caregiver, is called to collect them from the nurse’s office. They’ve been holding onto feelings that are about to come out.

    The nurse walked me to his office. When Grandad burst in half an hour later, I was lying on a bed and drinking a can of pop. 

    ‘I’m alright,’ I insisted, as he took the ice pack from the nurse and pressed it to my head. 

    ‘Yeh fell off a bloody chair!’

    The nurse cleared his throat. ‘I’ll give you some privacy.’ He left. I looked at my hands as Grandad sighed heavily, lowering the ice pack. 

    ‘I’m sorry, lass,’ he murmured. ‘Ah – I mean -‘

    ‘What for?’

    ‘For how I reacted. When yeh told me about yer gender.’

    ‘Oh.’ I paused, heart thudding.

    ‘It must’ve been hard to share that.’ 

    Well yeah.

    Grandad took my hand. ‘How long have yeh felt this way?’ 

    I blinked. How long had it been? I wanted Grandad to know me – for him to want to know me. I tried to think. ‘It’s like… I’ve always had this voice inside. It tells me to hide. To not let people see the real me.’

    He went very still. ‘Why did it tell yeh to do that?’ I shrugged. ‘Does it still tell yeh to do that now?’

    I was about to say yeah, but stopped. ‘No,’ I replied, hearing the surprise in my voice. ‘Now I’m just knackered. I came out. I almost died, but I didn’t. It’s kind of a relief. It’s all over. Everyone knows.’ A small balloon of warmth seemed to swell in my chest. I felt lighter, like when Cernunnos taught me to spirit journey.

    ‘So, it’s gotten better, then.’ I nodded. ‘Good. That’s good. But ye’ve been… struggling? All this time.’ I bit my lip. Nodded again. ‘Can yeh tell me more about the – the hiding?’

    I swallowed. Remembered a year ago, sitting on my bed and watching a video on my phone. Someone was explaining the moment when they realised they were trans. Suddenly it hurt to breathe, like the caravan walls had fallen away, and I was sitting alone in Heddon’s Field under the blazing sun, its light too hard, too bright. 

    There I was: the real me. What if people saw? They’d know, they’d see that everything I’d done and said was a lie. And it would all come crashing down.

    ‘I wanted to be like everyone else,’ I whispered.

    Grandad squeezed my hand. ‘But not anymore?’ I shook my head. The corner of his mouth lifted.

    ‘Are you disappointed?’ I blurted out. 

    He barked out a laugh. ‘Disappointed? For having a strong, brave, child like you? Don’t be daft. Just tell me how I can make yeh more comfortable.’ 

    My eyes grew hot. My rib cage opened, like a bird stretching its wings. ‘You already do.’

    ‘Oh aye?’ He wiggled his caterpillar eyebrows until I snort-laughed. Then he kissed me roughly on the forehead. ‘Good, then.’

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